


Touch

by flaggermousse



Series: Bad Memories from the First War [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, First War with Voldemort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Mental Health Issues, POV Sirius Black, Past Rape/Non-con, Trauma, attempts are made, struggles with intimacy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:00:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27528061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flaggermousse/pseuds/flaggermousse
Summary: They didn’t talk about it.Remus wanted to bury it and pretend it had never happened, so Sirius didn’t bring it up. The blood was gone, the clothes were thrown away, the wounds were healing, and they didn’t talk about it.But it was still there.It was like the attack had poisoned their intimacy, and it hung in the air every day. Before, Sirius could just take Remus’ hand, ruffle his hair, pull him into a kiss and it had been easy and natural. Now he could feel Remus tense up when he tried to put his arm around him, as if evenhistouch put him on edge.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Series: Bad Memories from the First War [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1907800
Comments: 19
Kudos: 119





	Touch

**Author's Note:**

> Picks up at the ending of [Aftermath](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26292643) and keeps going through [Taunts](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26604859), and (unbeknownst to Sirius and Remus) [Eavesdropping](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26667952).

They didn’t talk about it.

Remus wanted to bury it and pretend it had never happened, so Sirius didn’t bring it up. Remus didn’t want their friends to know, so they didn’t tell them. The blood was gone, the clothes were thrown away, the wounds were healing, and they didn’t talk about it.

But it was still there.

* * *

Their first full moon together afterwards was bad. The wolf often got worse when Remus was already hurting, even with Padfoot keeping him company. They didn’t play around or snuggle like they so often did, instead the wolf snapped at the dog, and tried to bite and tear both at himself and his companion. When morning came, they both had to patch up several wounds.

Throughout first month, Remus had to use sleeping drafts to get any rest. Sirius spent the first three nights on the couch, until he was sure his boyfriend wouldn’t lash out at him in his sleep. The first time Remus stopped taking those drafts, it was right back to square one. Two awful nights with hardly any sleep, and they ended up buying more. The old witch at the shop suggested gradually taking less instead of quitting altogether. _‘Lots’ o’ people need help sleepin’ these days’_ , she said, trying to smile reassuringly.

Perhaps the old witch was right, but they were fighting in a war, and there was always a risk of enemies finding their home and attacking at night. So Remus tried to decrease the dosage over time. The less he took, the more Sirius could hear him whimper and mumble in his sleep. He had learnt the hard way he had to be careful if he tried to wake him, but he couldn’t just roll over and pretend not to notice when his boyfriend was hurting. Sirius wanted to pull him into a hug, or kiss him awake, like he had done so often back at Hogwarts. Instead he ended up scooting all the way to the other side of the bed and repeatedly calling his name until Remus trashed awake. When the mornings came, Remus didn’t acknowledge what had happened, and Sirius let it be.

It wasn’t just the nights and their many dreams.

It was like the attack had poisoned their intimacy, and it hung in the air every day. Before, Sirius could just take Remus’ hand, ruffle his hair, pull him into a kiss and it had been easy and natural. Now he could feel Remus tense up when he tried to put his arm around him, as if even _his_ touch put him on edge.

* * *

“... can I kiss you?”

Remus looked up from the Daily Prophet. “What?”

For a moment, Sirius felt like an awkward teenager again. Before, he would just have gone ahead and done it, sure it would have been welcomed. Now he didn’t feel sure of anything. “I just – is that alright with you?”

Remus stared at him. “O-of course?”

Sirius lent over the kitchen table and kissed him. It was gentle, and he had permission, but he could still feel Remus tense up a little. Once they parted, Sirius sat down in his own chair, watching Remus across the table. 

“If I ever do anything you don’t want … tell me? I promise I’ll stop.”

Remus seemed to understand why he was asking. He looked uncomfortable when his eyes dropped back to the Prophet. “… that’s good to know.”

* * *

They didn’t talk about it.

It took Sirius a while to notice how Remus ate less. He cleaned the plate when they ate together, but it was as if he had to force the food down. And once Sirius started to look for it, he realised that the amount of food in their kitchen seemed to decrease slower; as if there were one and a half person eating, not two. He saw less of Remus’ body than he usually did, but he had a suspicion he was getting thinner.

Sirius ended up searching through Flourish and Blotts for books on dealing with trauma. He bought _Past and Pain_ , but the most useful advice it had was that memory charms were a poor solution to dealing with negative experiences. There was risk for permanent memory damage, and there were cases where even if the memories were gone, the feelings of trauma still persisted.

For once, the muggles seemed to be better informed on something. Lily had mentioned how it was unfortunate there wasn’t much study of therapy in the Wizarding World. Various books gave various advices; listen, give them space, don’t push, let them take the lead, be patient. The young woman in the store looked vaguely worried going through the titles he ended up purchasing. If Remus noticed the new books in the shelf, he didn’t comment on them.

The second full moon was an improvement, if only in terms of how many wounds they had to patch up the next morning. Still, the wolf had been tense, angry and difficult to keep in check. When they were younger, Sirius had looked forward to those nights when the Marauders could run together as animals, exploring the woods. He doubted it would ever be like that again. Even if they won the War and could meet up once more, Sirius now knew that no amount of excitement would make up for how painful the transformations were for Remus.

Then Sirius ran into Greyback on a mission.

He came home that day with several burns and broken ribs, and was considered lucky compared to some of his companions. He didn’t tell Remus who he’d fought, or the things the monster had gloated about. He would have given all his family’s gold to be able to say: “He’s dead; he’ll never hurt you again.” But he couldn’t.

* * *

They stumbled into the flat after several attempts at opening the door. Sirius kicked off his shoes and slumped over in the sofa. He cursed himself for his attempt to keep up with Fabian; he would undoubtedly feel it in the morning. Remus shuffled unsteadily over to the cupboards. He had drunk more than he usually did, they all had.

“Do you want something to drink?”

Sirius groaned. “Nooo, please don’t make it worse than it already is.”

“I meant water, Pads.” Remus chuckled. He had smiled more this evening than the whole week combined. He filled two glasses, and came over to push one of them into Sirius’ hands. “Come on, now.”

Sirius downed the glass like he had done at the pub, and nearly choked. Remus shook his head and took the glass back before Sirius dropped it, placing both of them down on the floor. Once the coughing-fit ended, Sirius sank back into the sofa.

“I’ll just stay here tonight. The bedroom is too far away.”

Remus kicked his shoes off. One ended up underneath the table by the door and the other kicked over both the glasses he had put down, spilling water all over the floor. They had clearly reached the point of intoxication where anything could be funny, because they both began to laugh.

Remus put his feet up in the sofa. “Seems I better stay here as well.” He leaned his head on Sirius’ shoulder, more relaxed than he had been in a while. When Sirius slung an arm around him, he didn’t flinch, instead burrowing closer.

They were so close now; Sirius could see every thin line of the smallest scars on Remus’ face.

“Can I …?”

Remus blinked, then leaned up and kissed him.

It was sloppy and tasted of beer, but it was _wanted_. When they parted, Sirius kissed him again, almost missing his mouth. He could feel Remus’ hand start tangling in his hair as he pulled him closer. The scars made their way down Remus’ jaw to his neck, disappearing underneath the shirt. Sirius moved the collar out of the way, planting kisses down the map of old wounds-

Then suddenly Remus went very still in his embrace.

The hand in Sirius’ hair froze, and even through the fog of alcohol he managed to notice something was wrong.

“… Moony?”

Remus didn’t answer. This close to his neck, Sirius noticed how the newly healed bite-marks were becoming yet more scars to add to the growing collection. When Sirius lifted his head to face him, Remus’ eyes seemed far away. Sirius scooted away to give him some space.

“Maybe we should go to sleep.”

“I – I’m sorry -”

“You got nothing to apologize for.”

Remus didn’t seem entirely convinced of that, but Sirius figured it wouldn’t help to push the issue. He sighed, got up, stepped onto the floor and promptly fell flat into the water. That got a reaction. Remus’ laughter sounded slightly too high and hysterical, but at least the mood lifted somewhat. Still, they both struggled to fall asleep that night, far apart on the bed.

* * *

They still didn’t talk about it. Some days, everything seemed almost back to normal. They met up with friends, they joked around, or they risked their lives for the Order. Other days, Remus was far too quiet, and Sirius knew he was hurting.

The third full moon nearly went horribly wrong. They stayed at an old forest they had used several times, far from any nearby village. The wolf ran through it, taking out the aggression on various animals this time. But when they reached the meadow and the old road, they smelled the humans.

The hikers never knew how close they came to death that night. They were sitting by their tent drinking and watching the stars. If they heard the howls, they wisely decided not to investigate. Padfoot managed to keep the wolf from attacking, but when morning came, Sirius was exhausted and bleeding all over the forest floor. Remus apologised again and again while he healed and bandaged all the damage.

They had dinner at Godric’s Hollow one night, trying to have some semblance of normalcy in the war-torn days. Remus ate everything on the plate, but he did so slowly, and didn’t ask for seconds. While helping James charm everything away from the table, Sirius overheard Lily asking Remus if something was wrong. ‘You’ve been so quiet, lately.’ Sirius paused in the doorway while the cutlery hovered around him like silvery birds, trying to see Remus’ face. It was a mask of normalcy as he told Lily that it was alright. ‘Well, as alright as it can be with … ’ he waved his hand in no particular direction, ‘… everything that’s going on.’

Lily accepted that explanation. James was out in kitchen, making the dishes wash themselves. Peter was close enough to have heard the conversation, but if he had, he didn’t mention it, instead focusing on letting the plates gently float down onto table for dessert.

* * *

One evening it was past midnight when they got back home. As Remus closed the door Sirius wrung off his jacket and dropped it to the floor; not all the blood on it was his. No deaths, but it had been too close for comfort. Nettles would probably never be able to see again, and Arliss had lost both his legs. Despite the regrouping at St. Mungo after the fight, Sirius still hadn’t managed to calm down.

Remus threw his own jacket onto the table, walked over and embraced him without a word. He was still shaking slightly. His fingers dug into Sirius’ shoulders a little too hard, as if he wanted to anchor him there, never letting go. Sirius could feel his heart beat hard and fast in his chest when he hugged back.

“How much longer can this last?” Remus sighed. “How many _more_ -”

“Hey.” Sirius tried to smile. “At least we made it through.”

“ _This_ time.”

They stood there quietly with arms around each other for a while. Then Remus leaned up to kiss him; hard and desperate. It felt familiar, this rush of adrenaline and fear. The need to know, to feel that they were still alive, still together. When Remus broke the kiss, he was breathing heavily. “I – I want -”.

His voice was barely above a whisper, but in the quiet of their little flat, Sirius heard every word. They stumbled towards the bedroom, struggling to kick their shoes off while still touching each other. They didn’t bother closing the door; this was their home, and there was no one to disturb them. As they landed on the unmade bed, they continued kissing. Remus' fingers stroked through Sirius' hair, touching his neck and gliding down to grip his hand and lace their fingers together. The pillows fell on the floor, and they moved around, rolling over, trying to rearrange themselves somewhat comfortably on top of the wrinkled blankets.

Then Remus stopped kissing back.

The only light in the room came from the open doorway, and Sirius couldn’t quite make out Remus’ expression, but the body underneath his had tensed up, like he was preparing to fight or flee. Sirius was on top of him, pushing him down into the bed with his weight. Unlacing their fingers, Sirius moved away so Remus could get up, but he stayed still.

“Do you want to stop? We don’t need to-“

“No, it’s just-“ Remus swallowed. “I - I’ll be on top tonight?”

“Sure, if you want.”

They moved around again, and ended up on their sides facing each other. Scooting closer, they continued. The kisses were hesitant at first, before they grew bolder. Remus toyed with the buttons on Sirius’ shirt, eventually starting to unbutton it. It was a warm summer night, and in the bedroom it only grew hotter. Sirius shrugged off the clothing before he started to remove Remus’ shirt, careful to avoid the bite-marks on his neck as he slipped it off.

Slowly, Remus moved over, his knee nudging Sirius’ legs apart to give room for him between them. Sirius pulled him closer as he kissed him. There were still too many layers of clothing; they were nearly grinding on each other and Sirius’ dick was getting hard in his pants. He moved his hand down between them, feeling how Remus was also hard underneath the fabric. He could also feel Remus tensing up again.

“Re-?”

“D-don’t stop.”

Sirius bit his lip. He didn’t stop touching Remus, but moved his hands away from his pants to instead trace the scars on his back and shoulders. Remus kissed his neck, but the desperate heat from the start seemed to be slipping away, like it was becoming somehow mechanical. Moving downwards from the shoulders, Sirius followed the pattern of scars inch by inch till he eventually reached the fabric again and felt the belt buckle.

Slowly, he started to unbuckle the belt. Once again, Remus froze. 

“Remus?” Remus didn’t answer. All Sirius could hear was unsteady breathing. He moved his hands away from Remus’ belt. “Let’s stop, alright?” Even _if_ Remus wanted to continue, Sirius was starting to feel almost sick. He started to move, gently pushing Remus away, untangling their legs. Then he turned on the light in the bedroom. Remus didn’t look at him.

“… Moony?”

“S-sorry.”

“It’s alright.” It was partly true. It was no problem to stop when it was clear neither of them would actually enjoy it. But nothing was ‘alright’ about the whole situation. Remus scooted down to the very foot of the bed, as if he was ready to bolt at the slightest sign of danger.

As if _Sirius_ was a threat. That hurt.

“I’ll always stop when you need me to. You _know_ that, right?”

“I know.”

Sirius sighed. “… do you really?”

“ _I know!_ ” Remus snapped. “I know you’d never- _know_ it and still I – not _your_ fault – it’s me, I’m b-broken, I _want_ – w-ant you but - you touch me – I’m back _there_ a-again – everything – screams to _run_ before- b-before -“ Anger and frustration spilled out, and tears started running down his face. “I hate being like this! It h-hurts and it hurts and I _hate_ it!” He curled in on himself, wrapping his arms around his legs. “H-he – _broke_ me -e’s not even h- ere and s-still I - ”

Sirius scooted closer, not sure what to do. “You’re not broken-“

“No?” Remus laughed. A bitter, almost hysterical laughter. “Look at me! Can’t s-sleep, can’t eat and I – I –“ He buried his face behind his knees. “A-and I only _hurt_ you now! I almost t-tore you apart, I could have k-killed you! - broken, dh-dangerous _monster_ \- no c-control, just like- l-like-“

“You’re nothing like him!” Frustrated, Sirius leaned forward and grabbed Remus so he’d actually _look_ at him. “He’s _scum_ ; he should never have _touched_ you! He’s a sadistic bastard that _choose_ to do that, it had _nothing_ to do with-”

He didn’t realise how badly he was handling things before Remus pushed him away with such panicked force that Sirius slammed into the headboard. Remus got halfway off the bed before he slipped and tumbled to the floor. He didn’t get back up; instead he just lay there, shaking.

“ _Fuck!_ ” Sirius drew a sharp breath. “Moony, I’m sorry!”

He stayed on the bed, not moving any closer to Remus.

“I – I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just – I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“ - kn-know you didn’t.” Remus cut him off. “-s-sorry too - don’t want – want to be like th-this.”

“It’s not your fault.”

Remus didn’t reply to that. For a long while, the only sound Sirius heard from him was shaky, wet breathing. When he finally spoke, he spoke to the floor, not looking at Sirius. “This – th-this is not fair to you, this - ” He swallowed, and continued. “M-maybe I should leave, maybe we sh-shouldn’t …”

Sirius felt his mouth go dry when he realised what Remus was trying to say. “... If – if you want to leave ... of course you can.” He swallowed, trying to find the right words. “But I want to stay with you, I ... I _love_ you. This ... I can handle all of this.”

“W-what if …” Remus swallowed. “If it- if I don’t get any better- if I _never_ …”

 _It isn’t fair_ , Sirius thought. Remus had already his fill of pain enough to last a lifetime, it wasn’t fair that he’d hurt even more. But damn it, if he let him, Sirius would do what he could to ease it. He had helped Remus through full moons for years; he would help him through this too somehow.

“I’ll still love you. I’ll still stay.”

Finally Remus turned to look at him. The tears were still running down his face, and he made no attempt to wipe them away. He sighed slightly, and nodded.

They ended up making tea, because sometimes there are no easy solutions. The clock passed one as they drank it in silence. Outside, the sun began to chase the summer moon away.

* * *

But when they at last went to bed, Remus ended up falling asleep in Sirius’ embrace, as if his arms could somehow keep the dangers at bay. He slept _almost_ peacefully. As painful as the night had been, it was as if _some_ of the poison had been drained out. It was still there, and it wouldn’t be gone the next day, or the day after. Such things would take a while.

Hopefully they had time.

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, I _thought_ I was done with this. 
> 
> But I ended up writing out pieces of the long journey. Recovery can be slow and not a straight line forward. Perhaps it would have been more appropriate to have this from Remus’ POV, but I think that might actually have been too rough. So instead we see the signs, the problems, the worry and the frustration at not being able to help more.


End file.
